the ridiculous age

There is something about going back to the things you wrote when writing was the thing you did. By "something", of course, I mean "something embarrassing". It isn't only that you see the starry-eyed optimism of youth from the cynical-eyed viewpoint of your old age, but it is that you can no longer relate to it. And you can no longer write with the same ease and disregard for typographical errors that you once did.

I used to write emails to strangers on the internet. There are chances I have said this before; I don't think I will bother to check. Why can I not repeat myself on the internet? It isn't as though someone is going to come up to me and say, "Hey, lady, you've been telling that same story for decades and it's getting old." Actually, that would be kind of awesome, because it would mean someone's actually following my blog. This is even more unlikely, because of the number of times I've:

a. changed the name of the blog

b. deleted the blog

c. changed the address of the blog

d. written somewhere else entirely.

So I will return, thoughtlessly, planlessly, grammarlessly - because I'm uncool like that.

just some regular feeling sorry for myself

Today I was on the phone with the ex-boyfriend (the one I thought I was in love with, remember?) and he told me he would be out of town this weekend because he was travelling to Mysore with his girlfriend.

Score!

Who feels like the hugest horse's ass in the country?

realizations

Last night I got drunk for the first time in my life. That's twenty-five years, five months and twenty days that I have spent drinking no more than 20ml of alcohol at any one time.

***

After being interrupted by a welcome but unexpected visit from the cousin, with interesting conversations and controversial topics; followed by thinking a lot about the so-called bad habits (drinking smoking drugs sex) that girls like me are not supposed to indulge in but do; I am angry all over again.

Why is it that innocents who have nothing but their virtue lose it the first time someone comes by and says he loves them? I feel so stupid. and used. and angry.

I don't want to feel angry. I want to be able to pretend it was not important. that it was a learning experience. That the disgust and fear and shame and willingness to please that forced me into a situation I didn't want to be in (should I spell it out? I cannot. I cannot.) don't make me less of a person.

Chastity was given a bad name and hung and I did nothing to stop it because I wanted so much to feel important.

I hate myself for my weakness. I hate the other for his blindness, his inability to respect my discomfort, his unkindness and apathy. I hate him. I hate him. I want him to hurt, and I don't know how to achieve that.

This cause me so much pain. I cannot say.

P.S. longer happier post soon. who the fuck cares anyway? not you accidental reader. move along. nothing to see here. these are not the droids you're looking for.

decisions!

I have just been over at Allie's and I have realised some very important facts:

1. I was never as funny as I thought I was

2. The first-and-only-boyfriend-who-is-now-ex kept me away from the internet and my blog and that was a bad thing for me to have allowed anyone to do

3. I have forgotten all the html that I once knew

4. Allie is awesome! And inspirational! Also there are real people who still care about language! (I don't know if you still check links, Allie. Chances are that you do because you have comment moderation, so if you are here... Welcome! I was not always as incoherent as my latest posts might make me appear to be. Once upon a time I was prolific, if not very interestingly so. Also you are awesome.)

I have also made some resolutions, viz:

1. No more zynga games

2. A return to the blog! That means the first blog and no making new ones just because I want to re-invent myself. That is not allowed.

3. Re-learn html and make the blog look like I've actually put some effort into it, for God's sake.

4. No whining about lack of blog-friends. They may never come, but whining will help nobody.

5. No more falling for jerks and making them the centre of my life! I AM SERIOUS T YOU HEAR ME.

These are my resolutions.

I had better stick to them, or else, etc.

old, dim light

The problem with losing a friend who was a part of your physical existence is that it is so much harder to find quick acceptable substitutes. Or any kind of substitutes at all...
I am sad.

breaking up

when i was drinking
when i was with you
living it up when the rent was due
with nothing and no one to live up to

you and me dying on the vine
holding hands and drinking wine
now i'm not the same girl i left behind with you

twelve bars behind us
and twelve bars to go
bottles of beer lined up in a row
one for each hour you didn't show

you and me dying everyday
getting high just to pass away
but that's not the reason i couldn't stay with you

now i am sober
now i'm alone
three years have gone by since you have gone
letting you go
letting me go on

but i'll raise a glass now to you and me
to to lift me higher so i can see
which of these blessings are killing me

When I was drinking - Hem

return!

The T is back to having adventures again. What I'm not sure of is whether the T is back in entirety, or if she only surfaces when I'm writing about her.

I went to the Himalayas. It was a time. There were many adventures with an Elf Express and lost horses and sleeping bags that fell in a stream and a cold goatherd's hut by night with snow leopards roaming the icy slopes eyeing sheep and goats. There was abandonment and reconciliation and a sari and a beard. It was a wonderful, magnificent, unforgettable time. I think I will forgo talking about it.

What else has been happening! So much. Let us enumerate...

There were the Iranians:

"This morning u ask me about I am your boy friend or not. Yes i am ur boy friend. Now cal me."

There was the gentleman at the theatre on my day off:

"The next time you go for a movie alone you should call me!"

There was the auto driver who refused to take my money (I did finally pay him) and then sent me morning SMSes:

"Smile-ever sad--never Speak--ever silence--never Share--ever hide--never Care--ever forget-never because we are BEST Friends forever. :)"

There was the recording I made for the M. K. Retail summer offers:

"Now save Rs. threeee hundred. Happy shopping!"

The recording is currently playing at all outlets in the city. :)

There was the woman who chased me across Shivajinagar bus terminal for Rs.5, the auto driver who gave me a lecture on what women should wear and then gave me credit because I didn't have change, the sunglasses I kept leaving everywhere I went, helpful strangers everywhere, the four blind people wandering around bus stands looking for their buses...

Life is back to being interesting. :)

hello!

The odd thing is that it takes a very large irritant (for example, in the shape of my sister) to actually get me blogging again.

Things have been relatively good in my life lately - I have a new job (which I enjoy and I'm good at), I have supplementary sources of income (which I also enjoy and am good at), the boyfriend and I are on a "break", but I'm pretty sure I'm breaking up with him in the end unless something drastic happens to change my mind.

What is getting slightly closer to unbearable is the situation at home. The fact that so many people who know me in real life read this blog should be a deterrent to my outpourings, but "frankly my dear," and the rest of it.

"Even now I'm bearing with your short temper."

It seems to be harder to live with a twenty-year-old than to live with a teenager. Why is this? Because there's virtually no difference between her two weeks ago and her now except for what she'll be filling in the "age" column of paperwork, is why.

The question of privacy rears its head again so I'm going to stop now.

g'day.

I will write again when I want to.